Your Friend
by Silver345
Summary: How would it have been if Spock and Jim had both been humans living in our timeline? An AU of the inevitable friendship of Spock and Jim. Review are greatly appreciated!
1. Basketball

The play yard was packed. The jungle gym had children crawling all over it like insects, making the play structure reminiscent of it's namesake. Students of all ages played foursquare, making their own rules, changing the game to make it more challenging, and arguing over pointless little squabbles. All the while with an overflowing, staggered line where each child strained to see what was happening in the game while trying to keep their place in line lest another argument arose. And in the heart of it all, a heated basketball game, as intense as a basketball game could be with third and fourth graders as the veteran players.

It seemed that all the students were making the most of their recess in some way; all except one.

A small third grader, young for his grade, sat on what was usually the time out bench, but in his case, was an observation post of sorts. His family had moved recently, putting the boy in a school with no friends, or even acquaintances for that matter. He was a polite child who barely said a word and never seemed to interact with the rest of his class like all the others. He was a bit pale and had an unfortunate bull cut for his dark hair which was a valid reason for the other first graders to ignore him.

In other words, he was a weirdo.

Rather than take part in any of the games or activities scattered around the yard, he was content to watch the game of basketball, which seemed to enthrall him as much as the teacher's lessons did. No one asked him to play, as children are not commonly aware of the reason to including the "weird kids", but he stayed content with watching the game.

For the most part, the game consisted of rapid turnovers, uncalled fouls and air balls, with the occasional lucky bank shot from directly below the basket as chubby limbs flailed in pointless attempts to block the other player's shot. This was true for all except one youth, another third grader. He was stocky, not big, but larger than most in his grade. He was tanned and his light brown hair was slightly sun-bleached from many hours outdoors. Through some unknown gift, the boy was the Michael Jordan of his peers. Rather than shoot the ball as hard as he could from wherever he stood, this young athlete showed actual thought in his actions, even making shots from time to time.

This was who the boy on the bench usually watched. Unknown to the others, in his mind, this boy was taking note of how each boy played, noting the way they dribbled and shot, making connections to how each action affected their success. For some time now he had been calculating exactly what needed to be done to win this game, but he refused to intervene in the other boys' game.

Until one day, intervention was forced upon him by the most powerful of all persuasions.

The ball flew through the air and was swatted out of bounds by the flurry of hands that grabbed at it. Where it stopped was directly in the hands of a rather shocked boy who was sitting on the bench. The basketball star ran over to where he sat to retrieve the ball.

"Hi!"

Silence.

"Um… can we have the ball back?"

The dark haired boy looked down at the ball as if he had forgotten that it was there and slowly handed it up to the boy who hovered over him.

"Thanks! Do you want to play? Watching doesn't seem like any fun."

"Uh…" He wasn't sure what to do. He didn't usually try to play with the others, he thought that he would probably be made fun of if he messed up.

"No thank you…"

The brown haired boy frowned. He was used to people complying with his opinions.

"Come on, you just sit here every day, don't you even want to shoot the ball once or twice?"

"…"

The boy switched the basketball over from his left arm to his right and put his hand on his hip, his brow furrowed with annoyance.

"I bet you're scared, you don't think you can do it huh? Well I dare you to try!" He grinned in satisfaction at the trap he had just backed his classmate into. The other basketball players, who had gotten bored of waiting and had instead crowded around to listen to the conversation gasped or made their own bets about what the smaller boy would do. The boy with the basketball smiled cheekily all the while, knowing that he couldn't possibly pass up this offer.

It was the pale boy's turn to furrow his brow. He would considered that turning down this dare would be more harmful to his reputation than failing. So, he quietly stood up and took the basketball back from the other boy and began walking towards the basket. His classmates cheered with excitement.

As he neared the basket, the boy began to feel nervous, but strove to hide it so that he wouldn't appear lesser in their eyes than he already was. He turned to the boy that had challenged him for clarification.

"What is it that you wanted me to do?"

The other boy grinned and pointed at the hoop. "Just make as many free throws as you can, you can stop when you miss."

"Okay…" The boy turned back to the hoop.

In his mind he went through all of the things that he had seen which caused baskets to be made, as well as the movements that caused the ball to miss the hoop completely. After a moment, he chose to copy the strategy of the boy who had dared him in the first place. Breathing in sharply, he took a shot, almost perfectly mimicking the other boy.

The shot hit the backboard, and after a nerve-racking moment, it rolled on the rim and dropped in.

The boys were impressed. His darer caught the rebound and grinned, bouncing the ball back.

"That was pretty good! Do it again, I bet you can't make this one too!"

The dared caught the ball and nodded. Already he was reworking in his head what he could do to perfect the shot for the second time. He looked up at the basket and shot the ball once again.

The ball flew through the hoop without so much as touching the rim.

The brown haired boy looked at the ball in astonishment and then turned his surprised gaze to the shooter.

"Wow, you've got to teach me that…"

Silence.

The smaller boy shot baskets with unfailing precision until the bell rang for recess to be over. He then abandoned the hoop and the crowd that was watching him and walked purposefully towards the spot where all of the third graders were told to line up to go to class. The boy with brown hair ran to catch up with him, grinning like a maniac.

"That was SO cool! How did you do that?!"

Silence.

"Well fine then, don't—"

"Actually I just watched you," the dark haired boy interrupted quickly. "I just copied what you did, except I changed it a little so that it wouldn't miss ever."

Silence once more as the grinning boy's face split into mild shock.

"…What is it?"

The grin came back,but with underlying embarrassment.

"Heh, sorry! I just don't think I've ever heard you say that much at once!"

"Oh."

The two got in line and the teacher began numbering them off after separating a fight between to boys over who had gotten in line first.

The boy with brown hair turned to his newfound idol. He could call him an idol, right? After all, probably no one else could do that could they? He wished he was as good as… as…?

"Hey! I just realized that I don't even know your name! I'm Jim!" Jim extended his hand to shake as his father had once told him was the polite thing to do.

The other boy looked at the extended hand in mild distress. He joined his hands behind his back and Jim, taking the hint, slowly put his hand down, slightly offended.

As the line began to move to class, Jim and the other boy walked staggered a bit, with Jim not completely behind, but the two did not walk together. Jim was rather irritated that someone could be so rude. He just wanted to be friends, its not like his own hands were dirtier than this other kid. They had both been using the same basketball!

He was silently venting about his woes and he barely noticed a small voice in front of him.

"Its Spock… I'm sorry…" A voice said awkwardly from in front of Jim breaking him out of his thoughts.

"What?"

"My name. It's Spock… I didn't want you to make fun of it… so I didn't want to tell you, but that was kinda rude wasn't it?" Young Spock had turned his head a little by the time Jim looked up and he could see the fear in the smaller boy's eyes.

"Make fun of you? Why would I do that?" Jim grinned and quickened his pace to catch up to Spock.

After the initial shock, Spock smiled as well. A friend, someone who would have his back. That was a nice change. Yes, he could get used to something like that.


	2. The Beast

"Hey! Where're you goin'?"

"…" Spock kept walking, clutching his binder tightly to his chest with his head down.

"I said, Where're you going?!" A hand grabbed his shoulder which he promptly shook off.

"I don't want to talk to you." Spock kept going, almost there, just a few more blocks…

Middle school had been harder on Spock than Elementary, rather than just know in their minds that he was different, the kids in his class now felt the need to voice it. And they never let him forget it. Ever.

"Well, what if I wanna talk to you, huh?" He heard quickening footsteps behind him as the boys he had left behind with his panicked power walk began to catch up with him.

Of course he had expected it. As he saw it, Middle schooler's picking on him was as inevitable as the boys behind him catching up. And, of course, his logic never wavering, both came to pass.

"Hey, com'on bull cut, slow up a little," the boy pushed him from behind, but not hard enough to stumble.

The taunts were met with silence.

"Oh, I get it! Too good for us, huh?"

Spock kept a staring straight ahead.

"Its 'cause he thinks he's so smart, isn't it?" this was met with both murmurs of assent and the silence of a victim who has accepted his fate.

"It's because you're Asian isn't it? You all are just geniuses aren't you?" the bully's posse laughed raucously as the "punchline" hit.

Spock merely gritted his teeth with frustration and anxiety. He knew what was coming. It had been coming ever since the class' "Where are you from?" project.

"But you're only half Chinese though, aren't you?" he could hear snickering from farther behind him.

He was unable to understand how the boy's taunts were affecting him so. He already knew that they were being hypocritical, they had barely been able to trace their lineage back to their grandparents, whereas he had been able to create a complete family tree back to when his father's side of the family had immigrated to America. They were not only stupid, but also had less honorable lineage than himself.

Your mommy isn't Chinese, right?"

"…"

Here it came.

"No, what is she?" the boy exaggerated tapping his chin and looking up thoughtfully. The boys behind him laughed snickered at their leader's mockery. "Oh, thats it! She's pretty much ALL of Europe squashed together, isn't that right Mutt?"

He clenched his fists around his binder, his knuckles showing white. He pulled his dark blue jacket around him tighter, if only they would just leave me alone…

"You hear that? That's what you are. A M-U-T-T, mutt!"

He had just about had it with these jerks. One block, thats where they would leave him alone. Because thats where his best friend was waiting.

The boy's had now taken to pushing him lightly to try to get a reaction out of him, but he kept his face as blank as possible. One block, that was all! Spock, along with the bullies swarming around him, crossed a street to get to the curb on the next block.

All the kids in the fifth grade class either liked or respected Jim. Or in the case of many of the girls, "loved". He was good looking, athletic, and incredibly charming. He could play practically any sport and used his moments of triumph to flirt, casually winking or flashing a smile at one of the many girls who gathered to watch him play.

But Spock was not so lucky. Despite being best friends with the fifth grade hero, he was still ostracized, mocked and attacked when Jim wasn't around. And maybe that was the reason all of that happened to him. The other kids were jealous that they couldn't be best friends with their idol while they couldn't even fathom why this freak had become Jim's favorite.

Spock was startled from his thinking by a rougher shove from behind that landed him on the ground. He could hear raucous laughs from above and around him.

"Thats right, your nothing but a HALF-BREED!"

At this moment, something inside of Spock seemed to snap. For some reason, the word "half-breed" struck some chord in him that "mutt" had not and he was suddenly furious. Perhaps he had just lost it with the name calling and the bullying, but whatever it was, it had unleashed his inner beast.

With one swift motion Spock got to his feet and whirled around to face his assailants. They all gasped in mock horror and began laughing again.

"Ooh, is the little half breed gonna beat us up now? I'm sooooooo scared!"

Ignoring their comments, Spock cleared the space between him and the other boys and landed a heavy blow to the lead boy's jaw, catching him off guard and knocking him down. They were actually shocked now as they stared at an enraged Spock standing over their leader.

The boy sitting on the ground now stared at Spock with confusion which soon gave way to fury. He stood up quivering.

"You've got some guts, I'll give you that. But you'll never do that again." The boy swung at Spock, aiming for the nose.

In this moment, if Spock had been thinking clearly, he would have been very glad that his mother had forced him into tai kwon do lessons despite his peaceful nature. Because when the boy swung, Spock caught his fist inches before it made contact with his face.

Had Spock been thinking, he would probably have registered some pain from this maneuver. But all he could feel was the adrenaline coursing through his veins and the anger on his brain. Because of this, he twisted the boy's arm around and pinned it to his back, forcing him to the ground. He hit the boy repeatedly until the boy was curled into fetal position and whimpering softly. There was a bruise forming on the boy's cheek and a little blood coming from a spot on his face where he had scraped it into the sidewalk.

Spock turned, anticipating the boy's posse to try and protect their leader's honor and join the fight. However he expected too much from them and watched them stare at him with wide eyes and slowly back away. As he tried to slow his heart rate, he watched them pick their friend up and escape, all the while watching him intently like he was a monster waiting for the right time to strike.

He glared after them until they were out of sight. Then, he took a deep breath, picked up his binder and brushing himself off. He noticed that his jacket had gotten wet and he quickly tried to dry it so that when he got home his mother wouldn't ask. He didn't want to arouse suspicion and she was a very perceptive parent. Spock tried once more to compose himself and turned around to see a shorter boy with bright blue eyes and light brown hair staring back at him.

The two stared at each other for a moment. Spock had forgotten that he was going to meet his friend so that the two could walk home together. He glanced up at the street sign above his head. The intersection of Enterprise Court and Vulcan Street. How could he have been so stupid? Jim would probably hate him for beating up one of his friends. He looked back at the boy in front of him who looked as if he were about to speak, but couldn't form his words correctly. Spock looked at the pavement at his feet.

"I…I'm sorry…"

Jim stared at his friend, his eyebrow raised in disbelief. "YOU?! SORRY?! What are YOU sorry for?!"

Spock looked up at his friend with shock.

"I… well… I beat up your friend… you know, back there? You saw that, didn't you?"

"Yeah you did! Geez, I didn't know how much of a jerk that guy was! You think you know a guy and then, boom!" he motioned towards Spock. "he does this to you!"

Spock looked down at himself where Jim had supposedly motioned. "Did what to who? I don't think I understand what you mean?"

"I mean, beating up my best friend? Who does that and still tries to call me his friend?" He laughed a little with disgust and then looked at his friend who still looked confused. "Wait, did you think I'd be mad?"

The dark haired boy stared at the boy in front of him with his brow furrowed and his mouth slightly open. It was his turn to be speechless. He closed his mouth quickly as no words came to mind.

Jim threw his hands in the air and let them drop at his sides heavily. "Oh my gosh, Spock! You know me better than this, why on Earth would I be mad at you!?"

"I… I'm sorry?" Spock replied, still not quite understanding what his friend meant.

Jim sighed and shook his head. He grabbed the shoulders of his best friend and shook him. "Come on, Spock! You. Are my best friend. That jerk. Is not. Unless you do something like that guy, which I don't think you ever could, you are going to stay my best friend. Don't worry so much, okay?"

Spock cracked a little smile and nodded, thinking he may understand now what it meant to be Jim Kirk's best friend.

"So you get it then? Fantastic. Now lets go to my house today, after we finish homework I want to keep working on your basketball skills. When we get to high school you gotta make the team with me, right?" Jim slapped his friend on the back and started walking.

Spock grinned and followed behind him. "Yeah, I guess that would be fun."

Best friends. He could get used to that.


End file.
